


SYNAESTHESIA

by halfcharacter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Blood, Drabble Collection, M/M, Medical Procedures, Missions, Multi, SEP, Torture, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfcharacter/pseuds/halfcharacter
Summary: A collection of Overwatch drabbles prompted by friends, taken fromthisdrabble list.





	1. One.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jack/gabriel #12
> 
> “Don’t come near me or I swear I’ll kill you.”

He clutches the white porcelain, ignoring the vile smell of his stomach’s contents as he throws up again—nothing but acid. Water and acid. He hasn’t been able to keep food down for at least four days now.

Exhausted and utterly consumed with pain, he slumps over gently, nearly planting face first into his own mess. He’s barely conscious enough to hear the sound of the bathroom door open, quiet footsteps approaching him.

“Jack…?” His eyes are closed, but he knows that voice.

“Don’t—” he manages to gasp out “—don’t come near me. I’m…”

“It’s okay. Whatever you’re going through, it’s okay. I know it hurts. We all suffered too.”

Sudden rage consumes him, overtaking all of his senses. He rises to his feet shakily, gripping the toilet for leverage. He’s in nothing but sweats and a loose shirt. Both of them are Gabriel’s.

“Don’t come near me,” Jack spits. His mouth taste like bile. “Or I swear I’ll kill you.”

Gabriel sighs, and retreats from Jack’s new stronghold. Increased aggression—that was a side effect. Gabriel had had that too.

Somewhat relieved by the results of his victory, Jack feels his legs give out from under him. He collapses again to the bathroom floor, bashing his hip against the rim of the toilet as he does so. He barely feels it.

He settles himself in for another long few nights.


	2. Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jesse/gabriel #75
> 
> “Do you ever follow directions?”

The floor looks really good, from up here. Really, really good.

He closes his eyes briefly, then opens them again. Ignores the feeling of the chain around his ankle, and tries to count to ten slowly.

Did they cover this in training…? 

He’s almost certain they didn’t.

The door of the warehouse opens again, and Jesse opens his eyes and sighs deeply. It’s more difficult to do upside down.

The guy from earlier, his shiny bald head gleaming in the harsh florescent lights. Even like this, Jesse can recognize that his suit is two sizes too big on him, and his cigar is unlit. Probably a logical reason for it—something with not wanting flames near the illegally acquired merchandise, but Jesse smirks. He doesn’t fit up to the hype. Doesn’t look like a real villain.

He’s got a real villain laugh though—a horrible, high pitched cackle that grates Jesse’s ears.

“Blackwatch,” he says. Jesse thinks that if he’d had a moustache, he’d be twirling it right about now. “Have failed again.”

“Again?” Jesse asks. “Now when did we—”

“Silence!” the comic book villain snaps. He turns to one of his henchmen. “Is the fastening secure?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.” He turns to a lever beside the door. “After I open this, you will being saying goodbye to your miserable life.”

“Hey, hey wait!” Jesse calls. The three of them stop. “Okay, I gotta ask. Sharks? Lava?”

The guy squints. Even from here, Jesse can see the bewildered expression.

“Nah, too high tech for you. Too...interesting. It’s gotta be boiling oil. More prosaic.”

The guy understands the shadowed insult. Snarling, he pulls the lever down sharply.

It’s not a pit of sharks. It’s not even oil. It is however, a massive cistern of water. And Jesse is being suspended upside down.

He swallows uncomfortably. The chain begins its descent. Jesse screw his eyes shut. He won’t let them see his eyes as he drowns.

Just before his head hits the water, there’s a faint gurgling noise. Jesse opens one eye cautiously.

Bald guy and his two henchmen are slumped over, something caught in their throats. Jesse squints, unsure of what killed them, before he’s suddenly aware of the chain dropping. He shrieks maniacally, but doesn’t go anywhere.

Somebody’s holding him.

He looks up in astonishment into the face of his commander, who gives him a look like: really? Jesse grins sheepishly.

From behind the corpses, Genji emerges, twirling a few shuriken in-between his metal fingers.

Jesse looks back at Reyes, who suddenly realises he’s holding his subordinate in a bridal carry and carefully sets him down. Jesse wobbles a little as the blood begins rushing back to the right places.

Reyes pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“Do you ever…” he begins, in a long-suffering tone, “follow directions?”


	3. Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jesse/gabriel #5 
> 
> “Do you think we’re bad people?”

Death is nothing new to him. 

The sight and smell of it too, the bright coppery tang and the sharp red of it, garish and almost lewd against the white of the prisoner’s face. Teeth chattering in the acrid cold of the sterile interrogation room.

It smells strongly of iron and ammonia. The guy gave up control of his bowels some time ago.

Jesse tosses the pair of pliers back onto the metal cart, sighing. It clatters overly loud in the quiet room. Death was a part of life. Killing was a part of life too. But torture? Torture had never really sat well with him. Give a man a gun, and fifty paces. Give him a fair chance on the quick draw.

He wrinkles his nose at his superior, whose jaw is grim and set as he fingers one of his shotguns. He’s closed himself off; Jesse understands. Later he’ll want to drink and smoke and fuck, but now? He might as well be a statue of granite. 

“This isn’t working,” Jesse volunteers.

Gabe grunts. 

“Hey boss,” Jesse volunteers again. “Are we…” he trails off, unsure how to phrase the question.

Gabe just looks at him.

“Are we bad people?”

Gabriel doesn’t reply, merely finishes loading the shell. He walks over to the prisoner, stares into the whites of his eyes. The man can barely speak now, teeth and gums a bloody mess. He sees the gun in Gabriel’s hand, and understands. Closes his eyes.

Gabriel places the gun against his temple and fires. Jesse flinches as he feels the hot splatter of blood in his eyes.

“This was a waste of time,” Gabriel mutters. “Clean up this mess. I need to make a call.”


End file.
